Personal Narrative: Communication In High School

“Would you like to join our rewards program? It would give you a coupon for forty dollars towards your next purchase.” asked the tall blond man behind the check-out at Kohl’s. My mother confused with words that might as well have well been empty sounds, directed the question down to me, a child who was not too much taller than the counter, with two interrogative words, “Que dijo?”. Dora the Explorer, in her attempt to teach English-speaking children Spanish, had prepared me for this very moment by teaching my Spanish-speaking self how to communicate in English. I explained the gentleman’s proposal in my mother’s native tongue, and with my shoulders back and head held high, or as high as someone so short could be, I said: “No thank you.”
My
Though there were times where my parents could or should have communicated directly to my teachers, the language barrier meant I would have to do it myself. And though my parents are of course the authority figures in my household, I was responsible for and in complete control of everything that went on from 8 am to 3pm. In elementary school, I decided that I was going to be at the top of my class each year, meaning I would have to do each assignment with diligence and precision. At the end of fifth grade, I gave a full discourse to my parents as to why moving to a “better” town didn’t mean I would get a better education, and thankfully, we never did. In middle school, I also decide that I wouldn’t go to a private high school because it didn’t make sense to struggle to financially now when college would be a short four years down the line. Now in high school, I’ve decided that being top of my class wasn’t as important as challenging myself and being engaged in non-academic activities, so long as I keep doing better each day than how I did the day